Accidental
by purplepencils
Summary: It felt right. But it was definitely an accident. Chapter Two: There were a many number of things Ling wanted. Be it his mother's attention, food, or his best friend's presence, he wanted it. Badly. Brotherhood/Manga, LingFan
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

She died young. Five arrows to the chest, nearly an instant death blow. It was of no importance who the girl was, as long as the Emperor was safe. She passed as a bodyguard should, protecting her master with every ounce of her being. The assassin responsible for the attempt to murder the Emperor fled, with many search parties looking for him. The Emperor was said to have gone missing for several hours afterwards, much to the concern of the court. Nevertheless, he returned within the night and locked himself in his chambers, servants rumoured to have heard weeping echo from behind his doors that evening. The assassin was found not a day later, his body riddled with so many sword slices it was barely recognizable as the same man. The news did not seem at all surprising to the young Emperor, yet his cursory glance of the corpse burned with intense hate. He ordered the body to be burned at the stake and then fed to the wild, much to the confusion of his men.

A funeral was organized by the Emperor himself, all for the nameless girl, the only death of that day. Not many knew the cause for the Emperor's sudden change of personality. He was much more distant, sombre even, and though he was known for his humour and smiles, a grin never took to his features again. Rumours spread, stretching from the palace kitchens to the far corners of Xing. She was said to be the young childhood friend of Emperor Yao of whom he cared for immensely, and still others whispered that she was a young peasant who the Emperor had adopted into his guard when he traveled to the foreign land of armies and alchemy. After all, only Amestrians would have such a thing as automail. But the most popular of rumours was that she was a young Xingese woman, the granddaughter of the legendary bodyguard Fu, and that the young Yao prince had fallen deeply in love with her. Whichever it was, all were certain that the girl had shared a kiss with their ruler in the very last moments of her life, exchanging soft words of love before passing away in his arms.

An honourable death most would say, but she was forgotten soon after, kept in no one's memory but the one belonging to Ling Yao.

He lived long. Old age had wrinkled his skin and greyed his hair. It was devastating to his country, as he had not produced a single heir in his long years of rule. He passed as an Emperor should, ripened and wise until the very end. The long years took its toll, and he died with the first smile that tugged at his lips in decades. He was found in a cemetery, lying dead at the foot of a granite grey stone with a brand new bouquet of silver lilies clutched in his withered fist. Alongside it was a small scroll, wording his final command as Emperor; he was buried at the side of that gravestone, and the Imperial Harem was to be forever dissolved, declaring that all future rulers were to marry for love. The word spread like wildfire through the Xingese Empire, peasants and royals alike convinced that their late Emperor had been driven mad by love. However, not a soul could guess which woman had made away with his heart. After all, the possibilities were endless with the Emperor. But there was a woman. Not that anyone could remember her, for that matter. Her name was erased from history long before, written off as just another soldier caught in the line of fire. And yet, her death changed the course of her country drastically, because of the love shared between the Emperor and his guard. His beloved Lan Fan.


	2. A Thousand Years

**A/N: My first Fanfic, just so you know…I like this chapter much more than the prologue! Enjoy! (Also, I wrote this a little unprofessionally to keep it young and innocent…hopefully.)**

**Disclaimer: Man, do I really need this? Unless I'm secretly a cartoon cow with glasses, I don't think I'm the mastermind behind FMA…If I was…well, let's say it would be OTP time. Also, it is sorta a songfic, so I disclaim that too.**

Chapter One

A Thousand Years

Five hundred years later, their graves had long since vanished, weathered and faded away beside each other, dematerialized into a country that had changed for the better. Somewhere in that nation, a young boy with short, spiky black hair and a lopsided grin sauntered into his very first kindergarten class. His mother had just left him in a big, colourful room, with lots of little tables and chairs. There were hooks in the back wall, and a big, black board in the front. A pretty woman came forward, and leaned down to talk to him. She had long wavy brown hair, and wide dark eyes, and she talked in a kind voice. He liked her instantly. She asked his name and then told him that she was "Ms. Catalina" but to please just call her "Ms. Rebecca." She showed him that the hooks in the walls were where he should put his bag, and that the little chairs and tables were where he should sit. So he thanked her, because that was called "politeness", and chose the yellow hook closest to the door. He wasn't the first person here. There were already more kids sitting at the tables and hanging their bags, and the boy smiled, because his mother told him that he was friendly, and if he was friendly to everyone, he should have a lot of friends. Mother also said friends were nice people that like you, and love you, but he didn't want love, because that's grown-up stuff. He just wanted to be liked. After he wrote his name over the hook like Ms. Rebecca said, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.

Standing in the door was a gruff looking old man holding a small black knapsack that hung around his arm. The little boy blinked, a strange feeling of recognition tingling behind his eyes. The old man stared at him too, eyes wide with something the boy couldn't explain. After a moment, the old man broke eye contact and walked right in, grunting as he passed. The little boy gaped for a moment longer, because he thought kindergarten was for kids, and that old man was definitely not a kid. He also didn't like the feeling that man gave him. It felt the same as when he broke Mother's vase and she yelled at him, and after, he didn't know what he could do to make up for it. When he asked, she said he must be feeling "guilty" and he should be. Still, he was sure he had never met the old man, meaning he had no reason at all to feel like this. So he turned away as Ms. Rebecca talked to the man, pulling out his new pencils, erasers and colours. As he turned from his bag, the old man called in a rusty voice, "Come here."

The boy spun around, startled and his breath hitched. He felt like this man should be the teacher, that he should be scolding him for being silly. But what could he have done to make the man call to him?

The old man called out again, and the boy realized that he wasn't the one the he was calling to. Looking around, the boy spotted little hands on the edge of the door, followed by large purple-black eyes that peeked out under thin raven hair. He did a double take. He watched in a somewhat fixed trance as a little wisp of a girl stepped into view, wiping her eyes with thin fingers. She walked timidly into the room, and fixed her eyes on him, and he suddenly felt a large jolt in his belly, still staring stupidly as his mouth hung open. She gawked at him to, but her eyes were wet and shiny. He wanted the girl to stop crying, because for some reason, it made him sad. She blinked, and looked at her feet, breaking the brief moment that their eyes locked. He watched, mesmerized, but she went tip-toeing around him to grab the old man's hand, without saying a word. The young boy shook his head in confusion, walking towards the main part of the room with a somewhat reluctant pace. It felt…weird when he saw that girl. Like with the old man, but this felt stronger, with the strange feeling of having an empty stomach, even though he already ate. It shouldn't have mattered, and he should have been able to shrug it off, because Mother would call him "ridiculous" again. But that little girl suddenly seemed very, very important, and he wanted to talk to her.

With his young mind still brooding, he found a purple chair to sit at a yellow table, because yellow was his most favourite colour. Not a minute passed before he heard the old man at the back speak softly.

"You be good, child. Have fun, make friends, and behave." He spoke the last word quietly but full of command, and even the boy felt inclined to listen. He continued eavesdropping and heard the little girl start to sniffle and sob.

"B-but…I don't wanna, gran'father!" she whimpered, voice full of fear, "I-I wanna go home! I'm s-scared…" She hiccupped.

"Now, now, don't cry," the old man said gently, but with an edge of authority, "Tears are for the weak-minded, and smiles for the strong. It won't be very long, I'll be here in a few hours to get you. Please do not cry. You are much more beautiful smiling."

He hugged her tight, handed her the bag and wiped her face, all while she tried to smile for him. His eyes crinkled at the edges as he smiled back, and then he strode out the door, and the girl began to sniffle again. He heard Ms. Rebecca explaining the class hooks and tables, and soon, the little girl was seated at the table on the other side of the room with a bunch of blond kids. Her eyes were red and puffy, but she tugged up her baggy turtle-neck collar and pulled at her bangs, trying her best to hide it. He could hear her sniffling from time to time, but she didn't seem so very upset anymore. Until that blond boy started talking. He watched with narrowed eyes as the other boy ran his mouth.

"Hey, you," the blond said in a snarky voice, "No one cries in kindergarten. What are you crying for, anyway? This is the easiest thing ever, I only have to sit here and behave."

The girl didn't answer, but she lowered her face into her arms and curled in on herself. Another blond boy spoke up, saying that "What did she do to you? Mom wouldn't like what you're doing." The first blond huffed at him and told him to "be quiet, stupid."

"I mean, only stupids cry for stupid things," he continued matter-of-factly, "I hear that next year will be harder work too, and the year after that, and the year after that. But I'm not gonna cry. 'Cuz only stupid kids cry."

The black-haired boy wasn't sure when he had stood and walked right up to him, but he didn't care. Right now, this other boy was being "rude" as Mother would have called him, and especially to a little girl who hadn't so much as breathed on him. Other kids must be different, he supposed. But that didn't mean he would sit and watch. He didn't like the way it made his chest feel, the way it squeezed the air slowly away and left nothing but pressure. It wouldn't be right to just stand by.

"Hey, meanie."

The blond boy turned around and opened his mouth to start insulting the newcomer, but stopped short upon seeing him. Granted, he'd always been rather short for his age, but compared to the black-haired boy, he looked somewhat like an ant. The blond boy's face turned to a scowl, and he pouted at the boy who was significantly taller.

"Go away, I wasn't talking to you."

"Yeah, but you won't talk to her like that. What did she ever do to you, shorty?"

The blond's eyes became slits, and he hissed venomous insults that would have earned a spanking from both their mothers. The other blond tried to protest as the short one stood up, but he was ignored. The little girl peeked up through her fingers, looking scared as the boys stared each other down. The tall boy looked at her and caught her eye, and he suddenly felt compelled to smile. He grinned crookedly at her, and she blushed lightly and hid in her arms again. The short blond boy huffed and blew his longish hair out of his eyes.

"What's your problem?" he smirked, "Is little cry-baby there your girlfriend? Are you in l-o-o-o-o-ve?"

Before he could reply angrily, the blond crumpled to the ground. A large bump started to rise on the back of his head. His adversary stared in shock, and leaned down to see what was wrong. He spotted a glass ball rolling away under the table just as an irritated girly voice called from above. He looked up to see the third blond at the table, a pretty blue-eyed girl who was still playing with more of her glass marbles.

"Leave him alone! You were being a bum to that girl, you deserve a booboo on your head."

He blinked, then smiled amusedly at her. She must have thrown a marble at his head. How cute.

The short one groaned, and sat back on his knees with tears pricking at his gold eyes. He rubbed his head gingerly as he muttered hateful words about a "marble maniac."

He glared angrily at the tall boy, who walked past him to the little girl and poked her shoulder. She raised her face out of her hands and looked at him under thick lashes, her cheeks still wet.

"Hi!" he beamed, "I'm Ling! Do you wanna sit with me? I won't be rude like shrimpy there."

The blond growled evilly as Ling stretched a hand out to her, and she stared at it rather uncertainly for a moment or two. She blinked, and nodded, sitting up to grab his hand. She had barely brushed his fingers before he went flying to the ground, tackled by the furious short child.

"Brother!" cried the other blond boy.

The little girl squeaked in worry and fright, hands flying over her wide eyes as the blond boy rammed his fist into Ling's nose.

"Eddie! Stop it!" the blonde girl shouted, throwing more marbles, "Ms. Rebecca!"

Before the pretty brunette teacher could pry the boys from each other, they both sported bruised faces and bloody noses. The little girl was crying again as she kneeled by Ling's side, hands hovering over his injured face. He told a few jokes to cheer her up, and she giggled between her sniffs, making his head feel light. Much to the boys' dismay, Ms. Rebecca called their mothers and sent them to the office, where they glared at each other when the secretary wasn't looking.

A week later, Ms. Rebecca had let everyone outside to play for the third time. They were only allowed on half the pavement and the small stretch of grass along the fence, but Ling didn't mind. He didn't need all that room when he was having such fun staying still. He and the little girl lay under the shade of a small maple tree, staring up at the sky. He would talk about the silliest things with her, and she would giggle at him and call him funny. He loved making her smile. It made him warm and tingly, and he had to stop talking when that happened because he had to remember to breathe normally again. She never talked very much unless it was in class or to laugh and comment at his stories and jokes. So Ling talked enough for both of them, and he would always leave school with a rather dry rattle in his voice. He got so absorbed in it, that when he got home one day, he realized that he didn't even know her name. When he told his mother, she stared in disbelief, especially when he told her he thought he already knew it. She laughed coldly at him, nose turned up to the idea. She called him "ridiculous" again, and that was the end of that.

The very next day, when Ms. Rebecca let them out to play again, he asked her name as they sat on the grass. She looked rather embarrassed for a moment, tugging at her bangs as a red blush coated her face. She picked at the blades of grass, tearing them in her hands as she quietly mumbled a response.

"M-my name's Lonnie," she stammered, "That's what everyone calls me. But, um…"

She turned to him very secret-like and whispered sternly.

"You have to promise me. Promise that you won't laugh, 'kay?"

Ling stared for a second before leaning in close to whisper back.

"I cross my heart and hope to die, and poke a needle in my eye. Spiders, snakes, and a lizard's head, if I ever laugh, I'll die 'till I'm dead. I promise." His tone was serious as he leaned back, suddenly holding out his pinky finger.

"In fact, let's pinky swear."

She nodded, and they twisted their pinky fingers around each other.

"Well," she muttered, wringing her hands nervously, "Grandfather told me that my mommy actually named me something else. But other people used to laugh at me for it."

Ling frowned. The idea of someone making fun of her was very unsettling. He wondered how anyone could tease such an adorable girl.

She took a deep breath.

"My real name is Lan Fan."

Ling blinked. Lan Fan. Her name was Lan Fan. It was…perfect. That name, it was so very familiar to him. He thought back, but could not recall another with the same name. Yet, he felt as though he'd spoken the name countless times before. He smiled.

She still stared worriedly at him, as if her name would repulse him. When he continued to smile, she became puzzled.

"A-aren't you…you don't think it's funny?"

"No, why would I?" he positively beamed, "Is it supposed to be funny?"

"Um, well…" she mumbled, "I think it means cold rice, and…I guess people thought that was kinda funny…they weren't very nice about it."

Ling put a hand to his chin and began stroking an imaginary beard. He hummed rather loudly, feigning deep concentration. She giggled behind her hands, and poked his shoulder playfully.

"What? Tell me!" she laughed.

"Well…it's just…cold rice…I want to know why you would be embarrassed about that. I love cold rice!"

A very small smile took to her features at that, and she opened her mouth to reply just as Ms. Rebecca called them to come back inside. The end of the day had come much to fast in Ling's opinion.

As they stood up, Ling smiled again, and held a hand out to her.

"Hey, would you mind?" he asked as they walked to the door, hand in hand.

"Mind what?"

"If I called you Lan Fan?"

She smiled at him and let him go through the doors first.

"No. You can call me anything."

Feeling very happy at her words, he turned his head to face her and hugged her for a second. Then he let go and ran ahead, shouting over his shoulder.

"Great!"

That night, Ling asked his mother what Lan Fan meant in Xingese. She told him quickly before dismissing him to his room so he could clean it. The next day at school, Lan Fan was surprised when Ling excitedly told her that her name also meant "orchid fragrance." Whatever that meant. But they didn't really care.

It was winter, and Ms. Rebecca's classroom was full of green and red. The walls were covered with paper snowflakes and scribbled pictures of snowmen and presents. The whole kindergarten class was buzzing with excitement. Today was the last day of school before Christmas Vacation, and Ms. Rebecca was taking them outside to play in the snow.

Ling and Lan Fan were first out the doors, and the moment they reached the huge pile of snow the snowplow had made, Ling plopped face first into it. It was very fluffy, and not like the sticky, wet snow that fell earlier in November. It was powdery, and it crumbled to pieces in his mittens. He laughed in delight, throwing it high into the air. Lan Fan stood watching in amusement, giggling at her silly friend. Ling suddenly reached out and grabbed her gloved hand. She squealed as she slid forward on the icy ground and fell straight onto the snow mound.

"Ling!" her shout was meant to be irritated, but she couldn't help laughing at the silly grin on his face. Her coat and snow pants were now caked with white. She grabbed a fistful of snow and lobbed it at his head. He shouted in shock as the cold ball slapped his forehead and stuck in his hair, knocking his hat off his head. The girl could certainly aim.

Ling was about to throw one back when the two blond brothers, Eddie and Allan, jumped in with their own barrage of snowballs. Ling and Lan Fan quickly called a truce, and soon, the pair drove the two blond boys away.

Exhausted and covered in snow, Ling collapsed on the pile, facing the grey clouds that still rained snow. Lan Fan fell down too, the tops of their heads mere centimetres from each other. For a short time, the only sound they heard was their heavy breathing and the chirping of winter birds.

"Did you…did you see the look on Eddie's face?" Ling panted, smiling at the memory, "He looked so funny when you tackled him!"

Lan Fan giggled, rubbing her sore shoulder where she landed after that incident.

"What about you…when you filled Allan's hat with snow and he put it right back on!" she sniggered, rolling over to lie on her stomach.

As if on cue, they both burst out laughing, the sound filling the cold air. They snorted and guffawed until it hurt, and tears froze to their cheeks. Ling smiled his biggest smile, one that would never have existed without the presence of this girl. It really was a wonder why she affected him like that. But he loved it.

"You know what, Lan?" he asked, rolling himself onto his belly so he could face her.

She blushed and dropped her gaze. The boy was always doing that to her. She didn't know if it was on purpose or not, but he was very charming in her opinion.

"What?" she asked, timidly curious.

"We should get married," he said very seriously.

Lan Fan smiled warmly at him, before a whisper of agreement found its way past her lips.

"And I'll love you for a hundred years," he smiled back at her, his young mind working in overdrive.

Lan Fan had never heard anything so sweet. Of course, she was only four and a half. But she couldn't think of anything she'd rather hear from him. Except his laugh, and his jokes, and…well, she supposed just his voice was good enough.

There was only one thing she could say to that.

"Me too."

The end of the day came all to fast, and soon, Ling was waving goodbye as Lan Fan ran to hug her grandfather. She turned and waved back, grinning from ear to ear. Suddenly, as if struck by a sudden thought, she beckoned for her grandfather to lean down. She put a hand to his ear and whispered a question, to which he replied looking rather confused. Lan Fan shook her head and made a motion with her hands. It looked like she was saying bigger. Again, the old man gave an answer, and this time she nodded. She handed her little black bag to him and then ran back down the hall. Stopping right in front of Ling, she beamed at him before wrapping him in a hug. When she let go, she giggled at the stunned look on his face.

"Listen, Ling," she said, "if you're gonna love me for a hundred years, then I am gonna love you for a thousand years. Okay?"

Ling stared blankly for a moment before his signature grin lit up his face once again.

"Then I'll love you for a thousand more!"

They both smiled.

With one last blush, she turned and ran back to her grandfather, grabbing his hand as they swept out the front doors.

Ling was left standing outside his class, suddenly wondering if maybe a thousand years wasn't long enough.

But how could he know? He was only five years old.

**A/N: Well, that was fun. And adorable to write. I hope wasn't making the kids sound too old. But little kids are naive, and when I was younger, there was a boy who said we were married, so I thought it would be okay to put in the "proposal." Even though it was just their little, innocent minds being cute.**

**So, did anyone notice Ed and Al? And a small mention of Winry? Yes, I know, corny and all to have them reincarnated, but I couldn't help it! Just too adorbs!**

**Next chapter's coming soon, I promise! Gr. 1, here I come!**

**Reviews would be nice…constructive criticism accepted!**

**Purply**


	3. Something That I Want

**Yo, Purpens be back! But seriously, thanks so much for the reviews! Remember, it's my first story, so I tend to overreact about it. Also, all my chapters will be named after a song, but I DISCLAIM ALL OF THEM. And Fullmetal Alchemist, of course. And, no, I do not enjoy Twilight, I just liked the song.**

**Enjoy!**

Something That I Want

Ling could barely contain his excitement.

He practically glowed with it as he rushed out his room with a shirt over his head. Pulling it on with ease, he raced past his mother's room as she stood in front of a mirror, startling the poised woman. Poking her head out the door, she watched in distaste as he slammed the bathroom door shut and began brushing his teeth rather loudly. Not a minute passed before he was out and about once again, hyper and full of energy despite the early hour of the morning. She chided him sternly as he excitedly thundered down the stairs, leaping from the third stair to the ground. He stood up proudly and puffed out his chest, feeling very pleased with himself. It was the first time he ever felt brave enough to make that jump. It really was quite a way to start the day.

"Ling!" his mother scolded from the top of the staircase, "Be careful, do you want to hurt yourself? Don't be so reckless!"

He wanted to ask what "reckless" meant, but that would undoubtedly result in another lecture. So he simply folded his hands behind his back and muttered an apology, a smile tugging at his lips. If he was smiling in the shadow of his mother, it was most certainly a wonderful day.

His mother huffed in annoyance at his smirk, and proceeded to stepping delicately down the stairs as her only son ran to the kitchen.

She had to admit, as she prepared his breakfast, despite how annoying he could be, he just wouldn't be Ling if he weren't immature.

0*0*0

"G'morning, Grandfather!" Lan Fan squeaked cheerfully, dashing into the old man's bedroom and lunging onto the bed, "Do you know what today is, Grandfather? Do you?" Her little hands fisted into the blankets, and she pulled at them excitedly, startling any last vestiges of sleep from her grandfather's eyes.

The elderly man groaned as she bounced up and down as if electrically charged, shaking the paintings on the walls. He needn't set an alarm anymore if the girl was to do this in the morning from now on. He had been watching in amusement for the past week as she counted down the Summer days, but now that it was here, she seemed ready to bounce off the walls.

"Lan Fan!" he grumbled, sitting up stiffly, "Calm down, morning is a time for peace and quiet!"

"Oh…" she said softly, eyes wide and apologetic, "I'm sorry, Grandfather."

He sighed as he arched his frail back, cracks and pops echoing from his aged bones. Lan Fan whimpered and covered her ears, burrowing under his blankets. How she hated the sound. It brought back non-existent memories of pain; pain that she had never endured or inflicted, she was positive. But still, the noise startled her, and it made her left arm twitch for some unexplainable reason.

"P-please don't do that, grandfather," she mumbled, merely a quivering bundle of blankets at his side, "I'll promise to be peace and quieter if you do."

The old man blinked, his moustache twitching at his earnest little granddaughter. He allowed a fond smile to grace his lips as he coaxed her out from under the covers. Despite her off days, Lan Fan was usually very mature and obedient for her age. It saddened him to see her acting as such, but the times when she became silly and innocent were his most loved moments; and his most naive. He could trust that she would stay treading on the lines of beauty and cuteness, innocence and maturity. He wished in those instants that she would never grow up. And he would sometimes believe it.

He smiled warmly at her, patting her head affectionately. He might as well cherish every moment he had with his young angel. After all, he couldn't imagine her any other way.

O*O*O

"What's going on, Mother?" Ling asked, frowning as they walked past his old classroom, "Why aren't we in the same room this year?"

His frown only deepened when his mother did not reply, only creasing her brow as she typed furiously on her cell phone. It seemed to always be like this with her. When he needed it most, her attention would be somewhere else. He never used to mind, mostly because it was nothing short of normal. But since starting school, he would see parents walking their children across the roads, holding their hands and swinging them above the ground, always laughing and listening with their children, and couldn't help but think he was missing out. Once, he even saw a girl riding on her father's shoulders, and he didn't even know you could do that.

"Mother," he repeated, tugging at her sleeve. She glanced down at him briefly, looking down at him with a slightly surprised expression, before returning her gaze to her small electronic device.

"What, Ling?" she asked out of the corner of her mouth.

With a small sigh, Ling repeated his question, raising his voice ever so slightly. He really wished she would listen once in a while, much like his best friend always did. She stayed silent for a moment, much to his dismay, but soon responded in a crisp tone.

"Your classes change every year, Ling," she explained, not tearing her eyes from the screen, "Every grade will be new people and new teachers, and you'll make new friends that way."

Immediately, fear spread through his chest like frost on a window. Normally, it wasn't a scary thought meeting new people, and he would look forward to it. But now Ling wondered if he would have to start all over this year, making new friends and new games and new ideas. He flinched at the idea of not having any of his old friends in his class. Maybe they weren't allowed to be friends if they weren't in the same class. Maybe his best friend wouldn't be there.

What a horrible thought.

Suddenly, his mother stopped abruptly, and as he was still deep in thought, he walked right into her. She turned promptly on her heel, surprised at the sudden bump in her rear.

"Ling! Be careful!" she said sternly, her eyes softening a fraction at the terrified look on his face.

"Now, Ling," she began in a slightly kinder tone, "I know this is new and everything, and I, ah…"

Ling glanced up, slightly surprised. His mother had never been short for words. How odd.

She struggled a moment more to find the right thing to say, a lost look in her eyes.

"I know you'll be fine. You're a special little boy, right?"

"Yes, Mother."

A small smile adorned her face, a look of understanding in her dark irises. She ruffled his messy black hair, making his eyes widen.

"We should get your hair cut soon. It's getting a little long and unruly, " she laughed lightly as she gestured to a door a few steps ahead.

"This is your new class, okay? Don't forget."

"Okay. Got it."

"I hope you have a great first day."

"Second first day!"

"Right. I'll come pick you up later, okay?"

"Okay!"

"Goodbye, Ling."

"G'bye, Mother."

With that, she turned swiftly and strode down the hall, her high-heeled shoes clicking with every step. Ling stared after her in bewilderment, wondering what had brought about her unusual behaviour. A sudden smile lit up his face, happiness melting the icy fear in his chest. He touched his bedraggled hair where she had tousled it and decided that he liked it a bit overgrown and shaggy.

He hummed in content, readjusting his bag as a snappy voice called from behind.

"Ling!"

Turning around, Ling found himself facing a little blond boy. His hair was longer than even his own, and his sharp golden eyes sparkled with hastily hidden excitement. His usually fair skin was dark and reddened, a small splash of freckles dotting his nose.

"Eddie!" Ling exclaimed, grinning even wider. He ran over and nearly tackled the short boy in a hug. Eddie grunted and shoved him off, though he smiled back at him. Despite their disastrous first meeting, the boys had become very close since last year's Halloween party. They were bound to be friends from the moment they spilled juice all over their teacher together.

"It's Ed!" he complained, crossing his arms as Ling shrugged indifferently.

"So, I guess we're in the same class, huh?" Ling beamed, breathing a sigh of relief, "Awesome, right?"

Ed looked down at his shoes, a sudden look of injustice crossing his face.

"Yeah, it is," he grumbled, "but Al and Robin are in another one. It's not fair!"

Ling frowned at that, silently agreeing with Ed's statement. Without his kinder twin brother and the cute blonde girl around, Eddie was bound to be wild and uncontrollable this year.

"It's okay, Ed!" Ling encouraged, patting his friend's head, "We'll just have to make more friends! And we should probably go in now, we don't wanna be late."

Ed nodded dejectedly, shuffling into the classroom ahead of Ling, who followed two steps behind.

It took a moment for Ling to process the scene as he stared around his new class. There was a man sitting in a big leather chair in a corner, and he looked up to smile as the two boys ambled inside. Instead of hooks on the back wall, there were large, funny shaped doors, many of which stood wide open to reveal bags and coats hanging inside. There were numerous tables around the room, all sporting at least five chairs each, but nobody sat in them. Instead, all the kids sat cross-legged on a carpet, facing the smiling man.

"Hello," he said kindly, "Come on in, we're just getting started."

Ed mumbled a quiet greeting, pouting as he collapsed to the ground. Ling scanned the faces of his new classmates, searching for shoulder-length wispy hair, wide Xingese eyes, anything. His best friend just had to be here, he wished so very hard as children turned their eyes to see him standing and squinting at them. His heart sank.

Lan Fan wasn't here.

Donning a pout identical to Ed's, Ling slumped to the floor, glaring at the carpet. He picked at the rough material, his feeling of anticipation lost, only to be replaced by great melancholy. How unexciting.

The teacher, who's name Ling had missed as he attempted to shred the carpet, said something about sitting in a circle, and playing something called "icebreakers". Ling followed as all the children bustled about, shifting to the very end of the carpet beside Ed, who had fallen into a state of complete silence. It seemed reasonable enough to Ling. Mother would have called him childish, but he didn't care. Imitating Ed, Ling crossed his arms and hunched over, refusing to look anywhere but his shoes.

"Why're you mad?" Ed asked grumpily, "I'm the only one who should be feeling mad. You're supposed to be dumb and happy. Like you are normally."

Ling huffed at him, frowning in Ed's direction.

"I'm always happy because she makes school happy. She's not here." Whining and disgruntled, Ling turned to look out the window. He grumbled incoherently, hoping his scowl might somehow melt the glass.

Eddie looked confused for a moment, before grabbing Ling's wrist and pulling him back around to face forward.

"You mean Lonnie?" he asked, wide-eyed.

Ling nodded, glowering down at the floor as Ed raised a hand and pointed across the room.

"She's right there."

Ling head snapped up, all resentment vanishing from his gut as he laid eyes on a tiny girl who had clearly just stumbled through the door. Her straight black hair reached past her shoulder blades, and her tattered shoes spotted the ground with mud wherever she stepped. Freckles dotted the skin under her wide black eyes, and she carried a small black backpack on one shoulder. When she caught his eye, she positively beamed, her face turning slightly pink. Grinning crookedly back at her, Ling waved his arm with renewed enthusiasm, nearly smacking Ed in the face.

In return, Lan Fan raised a small hand and sent a small wave his way. Ling beckoned for her to come closer, but she shook her head and pointed to her shoes, which their teacher seemed to be grimacing at. He told her to sit just off the carpet, and keep her muddy shoes away, and maybe even take them off. That seemed silly, in Ling's opinion. There was no reason Lan Fan wasn't allowed to come sit with him. What was wrong with mud anyway?

So, hauling Ed to his feet, Ling dragged his blond friend along as he made to sit by the door. The smile on his face grew wider, and Ed groaned in annoyance, muttering things like, "unfair, so unfair," and "dummy, you look crazy."

"Hi, Lan!" Ling said, his voice filled with relief as he sat down beside her.

She grinned toothily, tugging on her hair bashfully. It had gotten so long over the Summer, Ling noticed, and he reached out to touch it before he or she could think. She swallowed a startled noise as he examined her straight ebony strands, his face coming very close her nose. Looking in Ed's direction, Lan Fan sent him a very confused stare. Ed shrugged.

Thankfully, the teacher called upon Ling to start up the game, and the young boy was forced to abandon her hair.

O*O*O

"Don't ever run with scissors!"

Ling cringed as Mr. Han scolded Ed loudly, brandishing a pair of orange scissors in his face.

"It's very dangerous! We don't want you hurting yourself, now do we?" Mr. Han asked, patting Eddie's head, "Now, go sit down. It's almost snack time for you kids."

Ed scowled, stomping back over to his table where Ling sat sniggering. Dropping into his chair, Ed smacked him over the head, grumbling.

"Hey!" Ling complained, rubbing his head, "That wasn't very nice!"

"Well, you needed it!" he snapped, "That wasn't funny! He almost called my mom!"

Johanna laughed, leaning on the back two legs of her chair. They had met Johanna on the first day of school, and Ling thought she was the funniest girl he had ever met. Granted, she was nowhere near the prettiest, but her personality made up for that. They had already pulled a major prank on the class together, and she had a way of getting people to do what she wanted them to. Her skin was dark, and her brown hair was cut even shorter than Eddie's, barely passing the bottoms of her ears. She was what Ed called a tomboy.

"Aw, but Edo-" she crooned.

"Don't call me that!"

"You looked so worried, that's what was funny! Right, Ling?"

Ling nodded very seriously, smirking at Ed's incredulous expression. He moaned in defeat and smacked his forehead, eyes closed.

"You two…Do you guys ever just…Oh, forget it," he mumbled, burying his head in his arms. The other two laughed hysterically.

A blaring monotone sound erupted from the PA system, startling Ed out of his dejected state. Johanna scrambled out of her chair, running to the closet at the back of the room, Ling on her heels. Ed followed closely, glaring at their backs. The rest of the class began to get up and make their way over.

"I'm starving!" Johanna declared, rummaging through her backpack, "My uncle packed me a big snack today, bless him."

"Yeah, well my mom packs the same food for me and Al every day!" Ed said, grinning at the thought, "She loves confusing us that way, but I guess we confuse her enough, being twins, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess," Ling replied, frowning as he groped around for his bag, "My mom tries to control what I eat all the time, but I always eat more when she's not-"

Ling froze.

Johanna looked at him curiously, clutching her snack bag tightly. Even Ed spared him a glance.

"What's wrong? Ling?"

He said nothing for a moment, staring wide-eyed at his backpack. Then, suddenly, he groaned and buried his face in his hands.

"Ling? Hey, what happened?" Ed asked, taking a step back, "Are you okay?"

Dropping his hands from his face, Ling looked sadly at him, pouting.

"I forgot my lunch bag in the car. Aw, man. I'm so hungry," he whined, sighing depressingly.

Johanna patted his shoulder sympathetically, shaking with the effort of holding back her laughter. Ed wasted no time in falling into a fit of giggles, feeling satisfaction as his friend moaned, rubbing his stomach.

"Well, serves you right!" Ed announced, grinning devilishly, "I'm not sharing!"

He ran back to his seat cackling loudly, drawing the attention of many children. Johanna led Ling back to their table, trying hard not to succumb to the hilarity of his expression. What kind of friend would she be if she did that to him?

Ling plopped himself down in his seat, hating his stomach for grumbling at him. His mother said he was a kid who could eat and never feel full. She also said he would starve if he missed one meal. He wished he could go longer without food.

His stomach growled again, and this time, Johanna couldn't hold back. She burst into loud giggles, trying to stifle the sound by shoving cheese in her mouth. Ling glared at her.

"Be quiet, Jo," he said darkly, squinting as Ed continued to chortle , his mouth stuffed with apple slices, "You too, Ed. This is not funny."

" 'S 'ily 'uhnny!" Ed said, spitting on Johanna, "Oh, 'orry, 'onanna."

He swallowed, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

"What do you mean?" he continued, "You can laugh at me but I can't laugh at you? How's that fair?"

"He's not wrong," Johanna said grudgingly, reaching for her juice box, "But stop teasing him, Ed. He's dying enough already."

They both burst out laughing again, and Ling opened his mouth to retort, only to have the words die in his throat as a sandwich was shoved under his nose.

Ling blinked, surprised, looking up to see Lan Fan, who was chewing on a carrot. She smiled a small smile, and dropped the sandwich on his table.

"Lan?" he asked, confused, "But…isn't that yours?"

She shrugged, taking another bite out of her carrot.

"You sounded hungry," she said simply, swallowing, "Besides, I don't need it."

Ling stared at her for a long moment, making her flush slightly.

"If you don't want it, I'll take it back-"

He jumped up and hugged her, making her squeak in alarm. He backed away grinning, and she couldn't help but smile back.

"Thanks! Why would I not want it? It came from you, right?"

She nodded, flustered.

He sat down again and peeled of the plastic on the sandwich. Taking a large bite out of it, he asked, "Do you wanna sit here? Just for snack time, I mean."

"Yeah, come sit, Lonnie!" Johanna beamed, pointing to a chair beside her, "We have an extra chair anyway."

Ed rolled his eyes, grunting approval as she tentatively sat across from him.

Ling finished the sandwich with a pleased hum, picking all the crumbs off the table and popping them in his mouth.

Looking longingly at the rest of Lan Fan's food, Ling cleared his throat, looking slightly ashamed.

"So, uh…are you going to eat those crackers?"

Johanna sighed in exasperation, slapping her forehead. Ed looked at him disbelievingly.

Lan Fan simply smiled, and pushed them across the table.

"No. Go ahead."

**Hey!**

**So, if anyone noticed Paninya, congratulations! You get internet cookies! HORRAY! Anyway, I'm sorry for the late update, I can't promise that it won't happen again, but I KNOW I will get the next chapter up soon! Now that Christmas break is in, I'll have a lot more time on my hands, and I intend to write!**

**Review if you would spare the time for some poor young writer, please! Always great to hear thoughts!**

**NO FLAMES, but constructive criticism is appreciated.**

**Cheers,**

**Purpens**


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